


interlude: west

by zempasuchil



Series: west-by-midwest [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-10
Updated: 2010-07-10
Packaged: 2017-10-17 20:58:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/181118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zempasuchil/pseuds/zempasuchil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam Winchester, Stanford, California.</p>
            </blockquote>





	interlude: west

It has to be California, because it's not the sort of place Winchesters ever go. It's clean, like; it's people's fantasy state, one they imagine themselves in, living the adventurous American Dream doing whatever the hell they want in whatever landscape they could dream of. And it never gets too cold or too hot here, at Stanford. Palm trees, for Christ's sake. The palm trees make him laugh every time.

It has to be California because they've barely touched it, for all the wild Western roving they've done where interstates are the only routes between tourist traps and the supernatural. Their landscape's simpler, just a landscape really, for all the insanity of their remarkable unquotidian everyday.

Sam wants normal and Sam wants California, but he should've known it'd be like this, all these thousands of kids here dreaming of something else. Something fantastic. In their wildest dreams they are in LA a movie star or famous writer. President. Playing guitar for applause and royalties. A rogue lawless surf bum. Some rootless wanderer in another landscape, without a nine-to-five or manicured lawns or palm avenues.

In Sam Winchester's wildest dreams he is a lawyer who wears ties to work, with a wife and a house, and on the weekend he visits his mother in San Jose. Her wrinkles are laugh-lines.

But even California can't give him everything. Lonely, he thinks when he drinks, is his home fucking turf. He will spend years stretching a blanket over his long self trying to cover all the spots.

Hiding was never an option. Hiding is futile like everything here in California. The only option he has now, with Dean and a burned-up girlfriend and burned-out every one of his houses, is to face the facts and go out fighting.


End file.
